All Captains

Surname	First names	Known by
Abraham	John William		view
Achillies	Jackson J		view
Adams	Russell Wynn		view
Addenbrooke	Dean Geoffrey		view
Afeaki	Ben Tu'umoe Paul		view
Aiatu	Muteremoana		view
Ainley	Alex Nigel		view
Aiolupotea	Denise		view
Akuhata	Kere		view
Ala'alatoa	Michael Savea		view
Alexander	Michael Hugh O'Donel	Ox	view
Allan	Glen T	Darby	view
Allan	John Philip		view
Allen	Grant Wayne		view
Allen	Mark Richard	Bull	view
Anaha	Germaine Stacey		view
Anderson	Albert	Alby	view
Anderson	Graeme Wighton	Bunter	view
Anderson	Paul Gerrard		view
Anderson	William John	Bill	view
Anderson-Heather	Samuel George	Sam	view
Apisai	Leni Chris Antoni		view
Apted	David Charles		view
Atiga	Benjamin Alo Charles	Ben	view
Atkin (nee Huddleston)	Chanel A		view
Aubrey	David Ross	Dave	view
Axtens	Stephen Roger	Steve	view
Baker	Matenga		view
Balcombe	Darin N		view
Baldwin	Cole		view
Banks	Richard M J	Richie	view
Barkle	Garry Peter		view
Barr	Dean John		view
Barrell	Robert Bruce	Bob	view
Barrett	Kane Sinclair		view
Barrett	Neesha		view
Barrett	Scott Kevin		view
Barry	Kevin Edward		view
Barry	Liam John		view
Barry	Michael Patrick	Mike	view

Endorsement

When the battle scars have faded
And the truth becomes a lie
And the weekend smell of liniment
Could almost make you cry.
When the last rucks well behind you
And the man that ran now walks
It doesn’t matter who you are
The mirror sometimes talks
Have a good hard look old son!
The melons not that great
The snoz that takes a sharp turn sideways
Used to be dead straight
You’re an advert for arthritis
You’re a thoroughbred gone lame
Then you ask yourself the question
Why the hell you played the game?
Was there logic in the head knocks?
In the corks and in the cuts?
Did common sense get pushed aside?
By manliness and guts?
Do you sometimes sit and wonder
Why your time would often pass
In a tangled mess of bodies
With your head up someone’s......?
With a thumb hooked up your nostril
Scratching gently on your brain
And an overgrown Neanderthal
Rejoicing in your pain!
Mate – you must recall the jersey
That was shredded into rags
Then the soothing sting of Dettol
On a back engraved with tags!
It’s almost worth admitting
Though with some degree of shame
That your wife was right in asking
Why the hell you played the game?
Why you’d always rock home legless
Like a cow on roller skates
After drinking at the clubhouse
With your low down drunken mates
Then you’d wake up – check your wallet
Not a solitary coin
Drink Berocca by the bucket
Throw an ice pack on your groin
Copping Sunday morning sermons
About boozers being losers
While you limped like Quasimodo
With a half a thousand bruises!
Yes – an urge to hug the porcelain
And curse Sambuca’s name
Would always pose the question
Why the hell you played the game!
And yet with every wound re-opened
As you grimly reminisce it
Comes the most compelling feeling yet
God, you bloody miss it!
From the first time that you laced a boot
And tightened every stud
That virus known as rugby
Has been living in your blood
When you dreamt it when you played it
All the rest took second fiddle
Now you’re standing on the sideline
But your hearts still in the middle
And no matter where you travel
You can take it as expected
There will always be a breed of people
Hopelessly infected
If there’s a teammate, then you’ll find him
Like a gravitating force
With a common understanding
And a beer or three, of course
And as you stand there telling lies
Like it was yesterday old friend
You’ll know that if you had the chance
You’d do it all again
You see – that’s the thing with rugby
It will always be the same
And that, I guarantee
Is why the hell you played the game!

By Rupert McCall

Credit: Sutton & Epsom Bs

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